Tag: WWJD

Balloons and piñatas

A homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 23, 2022

Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6, 8-10, 1 Cor 12:12-14, 27, Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21

I was in high school at the end of The Sixties. Christian Brothers Academy, Lincroft, New Jersey, Class of 1973. Yes, I’m that old.

Times back then were tumultuous: The war in Vietnam. Oppressed minority citizens rioting in our cities for their God-given civil rights. The slaughter at Kent State. Watergate.  

Many Catholic clergymen refusing to breathe in the fresh air from windows thrown open by Vatican II. 

And no one over 30 could be trusted.

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Solving the puzzle

A homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 16, 2022

Is 62:1-5, 1 Cor 12:4-11, Jn 2:1-11

Rubik’s Cube. Jenga. Pick-Up Sticks. Checkers and chess. Jigsaw puzzles. Even Hungry Hungry Hippos.

Success in every one of these pastimes and many others depends on having the right pieces in the right place at the right time and, very often, having many pieces precisely where they need to be simultaneously. 

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Good stuff

A homily for the Baptism of the Lord, January 9, 2022

Is 42:1-4, 6-7, Ti 2:11-14; 3:4-7, Lk 3:15-16, 21-22

So: God in Heaven is well pleased with Jesus.

Duh.

Could anyone expect anything else?

Even though his ministry was still in its infancy, Jesus was living the right way, working the right way, teaching the right way and following the Law and the Prophets as any observant Jew of his age should.

Simply put, he was doing everything that a man of his time and place believed would please God.

And God literally said as much.

Jesus, son of God, got high praise.

So where does that leave us?

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Where the heart is

A homily for the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, December 26, 2021

Sir 3:2-6, 12-14, Col 3:12-21, Lk 2:41-52

A little girl is watching one of the dozens of rerun channels on TV and asks her parents, “When you were my age, were you in black and white?”

Because, of course, before Adam West appeared IN COLOR twice a week at the same bat-time on the same bat-channel, everything indeed was black and white.

Maybe not visually, but definitely in society.

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J K M N O P

A homily for The Nativity of the Lord — Christmas, December 25, 2021

Readings from the Mass at Night: Is 9:1-6, Ti 2:11-14, Lk 2:1-14

‘Tis better to give than receive.

Every child knows that. Every adult says that.

Every person of faith, justice and charity tries to live up to that.

So what’s the best gift to give today and every day?

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Real value

A homily for the Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, November 7, 2021

1 Kgs 17:10-16, Heb 9:24-28, Mk 12:38-44 or 12:41-44

Shortly after I started college, I turned my back on the church. Oh, I’d drop in occasionally to the Sunday evening everybody-sits-on-the-floor-around-the-guitarist Mass in the private dining rooms opposite the main cafeteria, but for the most part, I stopped being a church-goer.

I wasn’t being lazy, and I hadn’t lost my faith or sense of spirituality. (I wound up minoring in theology.) But I was annoyed at my home parish’s incredible preoccupation with money. Well, anyway, that’s how I perceived it.

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Take care

A homily for the Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 31, 2021

Dt 6:2-6, Heb 7:23-28, Mk 12:28b-34

Let’s imagine for a minute that it’s Christmas, and we’re 10 years old.

Our favorite uncle has given us the bicycle we’ve been dreaming about — shiny, painted in a red-and-gold sunburst, custom seat and no training wheels.

We throw our arms around Uncle Joe and say, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” about a hundred times.

We grab our coat, wheel our prized new bike out into the December chill — which we don’t feel at all — and pedal around the block a few times.

Just like Ralphie in the movie, this is the best present we ever got or would ever get.

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In focus

A homily for the Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 24, 2021

Jer 31:7-9, Heb 5:1-6, Mk 10:46-52

What makes a good photo?

Composition, yes. Lighting, indeed. The right subject, absolutely.

Focus? Essential.

The same is true when we look. Look, and not merely see. Because the act of looking adds focus to all the visual inputs that can bombard us when we open our eyes.

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Walk a mile

A homily for the Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 17, 2021

Is 53:10-11, Heb 4:14-16, Mk 10:35-45

It’s such a cliché: “Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes.” The activity is supposed to give us a sense of what it’s like to be that person, or a person of that person’s ethnicity, or socioeconomic situation, or belief system, but it’s a fundamentally flawed exercise.

I am not, and never will be, anything but a white male human descended from Irish-Welsh-French-Alsatian-Croatian-Slovak stock, raised in the suburban dead center of New Jersey, educated at Catholic grammar and boys prep schools in that aforementioned Central Jersey and at a small, private liberal arts college in the rural dead center of Pennsylvania.

Put me in Manolo Blahnik shoes and I will not be a supermodel. Put me again in work boots atop a pile of hot asphalt and I may labor but I will not be a laborer. Put me in moccasins and — at best — I am guilty of cultural appropriation.

We may try, we may try with every fiber of our being, to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, but in the end, the most we can hope for is partial enlightenment.

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A stitch in time

A homily for the Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 10, 2021

Wis 7:7-11, Heb 4:12-13, Mk 10:17-30

It’s still possible to buy a needle threader, an incredibly brilliant yet simple tool that helps people with unsteady hands or so-so eyesight — or without the patience and tolerance for frustration — to pass a thread through the eye of a needle.

The fine wire goes through the eye first, and then the thread gets slipped through the lasso-like diamond on the other side.

A quick tug on the handle — or whatever it’s called — and the fine wire lasso hauls the thread through the eye.

Of course, you have to get the needle threader’s wire lasso through the eye first, but pound for pound that’s a far smaller challenge than jabbing a limp, frayed string through a tiny metal oval.

And, no, using a tool is not cheating.

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